


Paper Planes

by lusthees



Category: Cravity (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, MOGUHAM R I S E, Mutual Pining, somebody help me bring this tag to life before i lose my mind, they literally have so much chemistry, why is this tag so dry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:26:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusthees/pseuds/lusthees
Summary: Wonjin decides to confess to Jungmo by throwing a paper airplane through his bedroom window.
Relationships: Ham Wonjin/Koo Jungmo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	Paper Planes

**Author's Note:**

> *checks last time i posted* THREE MONTHS WITHOUT ME POSTING???? 
> 
> Anyway, if you’ve seen the Pixar short Paperman, then just know this one-shot has a similar premise as that! 
> 
> Here some other things that inspired this one-shot!  
> These songs:  
> Cold Cold Man by Saint Motel; Olivia by One Direction; Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift; Paper Rings by Taylor Swift; Sunrise by Cravity  
> This tiktok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJ9Xk4jc/
> 
> Okay enjoy hehe

_Step One: Fold the paper in half vertically._

Wonjin licks the pad of his finger, lightly coating it with his saliva before reaching his hand out his bedroom window. The wind tickles his wet fingertip.

He sighs. It’s windier than he would’ve liked today. While he did appreciate the cool, crisp autumn breeze, the swift movement of the air would only thwart his plan and make the execution harder.

Days ago, the window across from him seemed so close that Wonjin was convinced he could easily jump the distance. Now, it felt farther than ever. One misstep in his plan would cause everything to fall down the bottomless abyss between the two windows. 

Throwing a paper airplane from his window and expecting it to land in his neighbor’s room twenty-feet away was already a difficult maneuver in and of itself. Now, he has to take the wind’s speed and direction into consideration.

Seongmin and Taeyoung had scoffed at him for choosing a complicated course for his confession.

“Why can’t you just be normal and confess to him in-person!” Seongmin grumbled to him earlier, mouth full of his lunch.

Wonjin rolled his eyes at him. “That’s the _obvious_ way to do it!”

“The obvious way is also the easiest way, doofus.”

_“You’re_ calling _me_ a doofus?”

“Who’s a doofus?” Taeyoung asked as he slid into his seat next to Seongmin.

“Wonjin’s the doofus,” Seongmin answered immediately.

“And water is wet,” snorted Taeyoung, picking at his meal. 

“Wonjin is _finally_ going to confess to you-know-who.”

Taeyoung turned towards Wonjin, the corners of his mouth turned up into a teasing smirk. “Ah, you mean _Tomato?”_ he asked, using the code name for Wonjin’s secret crush. “Man, I thought you would’ve gotten over him by now. How long have you liked him again? Like a year?” 

“Shut up!” Wonjin hissed, smacking Taeyoung in the back of his head.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“Kim Taeyoung!”

“What are you gonna do? Beat me up? I’m taller!”

“But seriously,” Seongmin interrupted, redirecting the conversation. “He’s literally your next-door neighbor; he’s _right there!_ Wouldn’t it be easier to just walk up to his front door, ring the bell, and as soon as he answers, just spit out the words _‘Hey, I like you.’”_

“Because that’s _boring,”_ Wonjin argued back. 

“You’re just too much of a chicken to confess to him in-person, aren’t you?” Taeyoung chimed in, not even bothering to mask his smug expression.

Wonjin stiffened but at Taeyoung’s remark, but no way in _hell_ was he going to give him the satisfaction of being correct. 

“Am not!” His voice was stern and defensive, and normally, that would’ve been enough to convince his two friends he wasn’t bluffing. 

Unfortunately, his red cheeks were a dead giveaway that Taeyoung was right. 

“Hah, chicken!” taunted Taeyoung.

“Can it, parrot head!” Wonjin spat back.

Taeyoung didn’t fire an insult back. Instead, he slowly began clucking and wagging his arms around like a crazy chicken. Seongmin tried stifling back his laughter, but after a few seconds, he too started giggling. Annoyed by his friend’s antics, Wonjin rolled his eyes before flipping them off and getting up to throw away his food.

After clearing his tray and heading to the halls, he felt his phone ring. Grinning widely, he eagerly fished it out of his pocket and automatically accepted the call.

“You answered quickly,” the other end said coyly. 

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Wonjin teased back. He was thankful he already left the cafeteria because Seongmin and Taeyoung would laugh at his flushed cheeks for the rest of the week. “So, you’ll for sure be home this weekend, right?”

“Well, someone’s a little too eager!”

“Yeah, eager to bully you again.” 

“Whatever. We both know you love me.”

“Almost as much as I love tomatoes.” Wonjin scrunched his nose at the thought of consuming the vile vegetable.

“Ah, I tried,” the other end sighed dramatically. “Anyway, I gotta get going soon, but I just wanted to call to remind you I’m coming home from uni tonight. Oh, and I _better_ see a paper airplane on my desk as soon as I get home!”

“Too much effort.”

“It takes a minute to fold one!”

“Who’s the eager one now?”

“Come on!”

“Beg harder.”

“Pretty _please!”_

Even though Wonjin couldn’t see him, he could envision his crush puckering his brows and slightly pursing his lips. He held back his giggles as he imagined him cutely wide-eyed like a kitten. “Alright, fine. There will _definitely_ be one on your desk, but only because you insisted!

“Is that a threat?” the other end asked suspiciously.

“Maybe,” Wonjin answered cheekily.

“Well, I guess I have that to look forward to. I’ll see you tonight, Earthling.”

“You too, Jungmo.”

Back to the present, Wonjin is still holding his hand out, allowing the wind to wrap around his cold fingers. It shows no sign of settling down, and Wonjin kicks himself for not considering weather as a factor. It was late autumn after all; soon, rainfall would accompany the biting breeze.

He looks out across from his window to check if Jungmo’s already arrived. The lights are still off, but the window is already open despite the misty air. Jungmo likely asked his parents to open it for him while he was away. He probably gave them some bullshit excuse like “I need to air out the scent,” or “My room gets stuffy if the window isn’t open.” 

Wonjin is amused by the thought; he knows the real reason why Jungmo wants his window open. Jungmo even told him directly during their phone call earlier.

Once Wonjin is certain Jungmo isn’t home, he collapses back down in his chair and puffs his cheeks out.

_Well, it’s either this or confessing to his face,_ he thinks to himself. He picks up the paper plane he crafted minutes ago and rotates it around his finger as he contemplates his choices.

Confessing in-person would mean seeing Jungmo’s reaction in-person, which would mean Wonjin having to deal with the aftermath.

At least with the paper plane plan, he wouldn’t have to experience the awkwardness of blurting out his feelings to Jungmo’s face.

Besides, Jungmo is the type to find that sort of gesture charming.

After all, the catalyst of their friendship was a thin sheet of paper, folded cleanly into the distinct shape of a plane. 

—

_Step Two: Unfold the paper and fold each of the top corners into the center line until they meet._

Wonjin was fifteen when the first paper plane flew straight into his eyeball.

“Motherfuck!” he cried out, wincing at the stinging pain. Teary-eyed, he stumbled out of his chair and stood up, trying to determine where the paper plane came from. Once his vision cleared, he spotted a boy about his age through the window of the house next door. He was lounging casually in his chair with both of his feet propped on his desk. The boy grinned amicably, excitedly waving at him. 

“Unfold it!” his neighbor called out to him.

Despite his annoyance, Wonjin unfolded the paper plane anyway, and on it was a message from the boy next door:

_HEY, IT’S JUNGMO, YOUR NEW NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR. NICE TO MEET YOU. HOW ARE YOU DOING?_

Wonjin looked out his window again, and his neighbor was still watching him as if he was anticipating a response. He quickly scrawled his message and refolded the paper plane before throwing it back towards Jungmo. 

_I WAS DOING OKAY. THAT WAS UNTIL A RANDOM PAPER AIRPLANE HIT ME IN THE EYE. WONDER WHERE THAT CAME FROM?_

Wonjin hoped—no, prayed—that appeasing his neighbor’s request would get him to leave him alone. Unfortunately for him, Jungmo had other plans. Minutes later, the same paper plane had flown through his window and landed on his desk. 

_NO CLUE. ALIENS?_ the note said. 

So began their first back-and-forth exchange. 

_UNLESS THE ALIENS HAPPEN TO BE LIVING NEXT DOOR TO ME, I DON’T THINK SO._

_AH, YOU GOT ME. KEEP IT ON THE DOWN LOW THOUGH._

_SO, YOU ADMIT THAT YOU’RE AN ALIEN?_

_CONSIDERING I JUST MOVED HERE FROM NEW ZEALAND, KINDA? AT LEAST AN ALIEN TO THIS NEIGHBORHOOD. CARE TO ENTERTAIN ME, EARTHLING?_

_I WOULD, BUT THIS EARTHLING IS STILL STUDYING._

_IF YOU’RE SO BUSY WITH STUDYING, WHY ARE YOU STILL WRITING BACK?_

_YOU’RE THE ONE KEEPS BOTHERING ME WITH THESE PAPER AIRPLANES!_

_YOU’RE THE ONE WHO LEFT YOUR WINDOW OPEN._

_BECAUSE IT’S HUMID TODAY! ANYWAY, WHY DO YOU KEEP INSISTING ON SENDING THESE TO ME?_

Jungmo never responded. Relieved, Wonjin took a deep breath. He returned to his studies, grateful that he wouldn’t be bombarded with any more distractions. 

That was until the next night when the sharp corner of _another_ paper airplane pierced his pupil.

After dabbing away the tears, Wonjin looked out his window to find Jungmo at his desk again, spinning in his chair while waiting for Wonjin to unfold the plane and read the note. 

_HEY EARTHLING. I’M BORED AGAIN._

Wonjin glared at him before responding and throwing the plane back just like he did the night before. 

_ONE, THIS “EARTHLING” HAS A NAME: HAM WONJIN. TWO, YOU NEED TO GET BETTER AIM! THAT’S THE SECOND TIME YOU’VE HIT ME IN MY EYE!_

_EH, I THINK I’LL STICK WITH “EARTHLING.” IT SUITS YOU! HOWEVER, YOU CAN CALL ME KOO JUNGMO. ALSO, I’D SAY MY AIM IS FANTASTIC CONSIDERING I’M NOW TWO FOR TWO!_

Even though Wonjin found his neighbor’s neverending flying messages a complete nuisance, that didn’t stop him from continuing to respond. It was suspicious; for some reason, Jungmo was determined to always receive some sort of response or reaction from Wonjin’s end. Though Wonjin never really knew why.

Eventually, the paper plane messages became a routine. Slowly (and reluctantly), Wonjin began expecting them, accidentally-on-purpose forgetting to close his bedroom window while studying. He even moved his desk slightly to the left to make it easier to dodge any incoming airplanes and avoid getting hit in the eye a _third_ time. 

One night, Wonjin had an exam to study for. Not wanting to be distracted by Jungmo’s aerodynamic antics, Wonjin closed his window and locked it in place. 

Of course, determination to befriend Wonjin was still pulsing through Jungmo’s veins. Not even an hour into his study session, Jungmo was at his window and pounding on the glass, causing Wonjin to jump and almost fall out of his chair. 

Still shaking from his unanticipated appearance, Wonjin unlocked his window and pulled the glass pane upward. “What the hell!” he shrieked. “How did you get here!”

“I teleported,” Jungmo said sarcastically.

“You alien freak!” 

“Okay, fine: I hopped the fence between our houses and climbed that tree by your roof.”

“Why are you even here?”

“You closed your window.”

“And?”

“So, I couldn’t throw any planes at you!”

“You sound upset.”

“I am! Who else is going to keep me from dying of boredom?!”

“Not me!”

“Aw, c’mon, Earthling! Don’t be so stubborn.”

“I have to study!”

“I’ll order pizza?” Jungmo proposed.

Wonjin glanced at his exam notes, already dreading to revise them. He figured one or two slices of pizza wouldn’t hurt. Despite intially closing his window to keep Jungmo from distracting him, Wonjin climbed out of his bedroom window anyway. He joined his absolutely aggravating next-door neighbor, getting situated next to him on the roof. 

“Seriously, tomatoes?” Wonjin groaned as soon as he opened the pizza box. Of _course,_ his neighbor had to top off their pizza with his _least_ favorite vegetable.

“What about them?” Jungmo asked, helping himself to a slice.

Wonjin wrinkled his nose. “I hate tomatoes.”

“So you just don’t eat ketchup or marinara sauce?”

“No, those I can tolerate. But the actual vegetable better stay away from my tastebuds!”

“Yeesh, aren’t you high maintenance,” Jungmo said. “Here, you can pick them off and give them to me.” Unexpectedly, he gave Wonjin a kittenish grin and winked at him. “Unless you want to feed me?”

“Oh, shut up!” Wonjin said, using his fist to vigorously hit Jungmo in the arm.

“I’m just teasing!” Jungmo whined, rubbing the sore spot on his arm.

Wonjin picked the tomatoes off of his pizza slice and chucked them at Jungmo’s face. “Gosh, I hate you! Almost as much as I hate tomatoes.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, Earthling.”

“Fine. First off, here’s why I hate tomatoes: I can’t stand the taste and texture. They’re all wet, gooey, and raw tasting.

Not to mention, people add it in _everything!_ I can’t even order a sandwich or burger without the chef sneaking a slice of tomato! Society would be better off if everyone acknowledged that not every dish needs tomatoes!

To summarize, I hate you. A lot. But I don’t think I hate you as much as I hate tomatoes.”

Jungmo gave him a perplexed expression. “Should I be relieved?”

“I don’t know,” Wonjin said. “Should you?”

“I think I should.” 

“And why’s that?”

Jungmo leaned in close until their foreheads were almost touching.

“Because at the very least, there’s _one_ thing you hate more than me,” he whispered. “As far as I can tell, you’re never gonna overcome your distaste for tomatoes. But your hatred for me? I think you’ll get over it with time.”

Wonjin could feel Jungmo’s breath tingling on his lips. Even though he had just declared his hatred for Jungmo, he couldn’t help but get flustered at the distance between them—or lack thereof. Any slight movement and their lips would be touching.

Unsure of how to react, Wonjin decided to impulsively do the first thing that came to mind. 

That’s how Jungmo almost ended up falling off the roof and crashing onto the muddy grass below them.

“Why did you push me!” he cried out as soon as he regained his balance.

“What the hell was that just now!” Wonjin snapped. “You almost kissed me!”

“I wasn’t planning on it!” Jungmo retaliated. “Why, did you want me to kiss you?”

“Gosh, at this rate, I might hate you more than tomatoes!”

“You sure about that?”

“Do you want me to actually push you off the roof this time?” Wonjin threatened, clenching his fists.

Jungmo immediately raised his arms up as a non-verbal truce, praying he wouldn’t get shoved again. 

Wonjin smiled smugly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Anyway, it’s getting late. I should head down now.”

“Finally!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Good night, Earthling. Oh, and good luck with your studies.”

Wonjin nodded and climbed back into his room as Jungmo scaled down the same tree he used to get up.

As soon as Jungmo was back in his room and out of sight, Wonjin threw his notebooks at the wall and screamed.

His mind couldn’t stop replaying what had just happened on the roof, and each detail was permanently wired in his memories.

The way Jungmo swiftly leaned in without hesitation. The distinct, earth-like scent of his cologne. The glisten in his eyes. Jungmo’s warm breath escaping his mouth, his lips barely grazing on Wonjin’s...

_Stop it!_

It was terribly theatrical, and Wonjin was repulsed by the idea of falling for his neighbor.

But who the hell could _resist Koo Jungmo?_

—

_Step Three: Fold the top edges into the center line, making sure the ends touch as close as possible._

Jungmo was right; Wonjin did eventually get over his hatred for him. 

Wonjin was eighteen now, and over three years, he and Jungmo had become best friends. 

Wonjin had become accustomed to his company, always expecting a new message or late-night invitation from Jungmo. 

He even developed a habit of never closing his window. Even during rainy or snowy days it remained open (though his siblings would bitch at him for making their house so cold). 

Over the three years, they had gotten closer than either of them would’ve expected, which made Jungmo’s leave for university even harder for Wonjin. 

Not a single day went by when Wonjin didn’t wish for him to reappear at his window. Every day, he would run up the stairs and bolt straight to his room after school. He’d eagerly slam the door open, only for his elation to deflate when he saw his empty desk. He knew it was silly to still keep his window open and expect a paper airplane from Jungmo, but he couldn’t help it. Every time Wonjin looked out from his window, he’d feel just as empty as the dim, desolate bedroom across from him.

They still texted and called each other frequently, constantly updating each other whenever they could.

Both of them knew it wasn’t the same. 

There was something precious and irreplaceable about the moments they shared in-person:

Paper airplane messages. Bickering over tomatoes while sharing pizza. Late-night ramblings on Wonjin’s rooftop. 

Jungmo leaning in _too_ close, and Wonjin momentarily losing control.

All those _almost-kisses_ that had accumulated over the years.

Nighttime was the loneliest time for Wonjin.

At night, Wonjin didn’t have any distractions to keep him from thinking about Jungmo. The hours seemed to tick by slowly, practically frozen in time. Wonjin would lay in the still darkness, staring out his open window, and wondering if Jungmo also missed him.

He also wondered _why he couldn’t stop thinking about him._

Besides, he had spent the past three years resisting Jungmo’s flirtatious advances as best as he could (even though there were times it was _extremely_ difficult to do so).

Despite this, Wonjin continued waiting.

Waiting for the white lights in Jungmo’s bedroom to flicker on. Waiting for another paper plane to fly through his window.

_Waiting for him._

After weeks of waiting, Jungmo finally came back to visit. That day, Wonjin arrived home to find a clean paper plane from none other than Koo Jungmo sitting perfectly on his desk. He peered out the window and felt giddy when he saw the lights were on in Jungmo’s bedroom.

_He’s home!_

He was so excited to unfold Jungmo’s plane that he almost ripped the sheet of paper due to his hastiness.

_HAVE YOU EATEN YET?_ read the note. 

Just as routine, Wonjin quickly scribbled his reply:

_NOT YET. DID YOU ORDER PIZZA ALREADY?_

He folded the paper back into a plane, sent it through the air, then patiently sat at his desk as he waited for Jungmo’s response.

_YEP. I MADE SURE TO INCLUDE TOMATOES TOO!_

_OH, FUCK YOU._

_HEY, I’LL EAT THEM ALL, I PROMISE!_

About a half-hour later, the pizza arrived at Wonjin’s front door. After tipping the delivery guy, he headed back to his room, out his window, then to the rooftop. Jungmo was already sitting there, looking up towards the sky. Once he heard Wonjin approaching, he turned around and gave him his signature, kittenish grin. The two got situated and began munching on their pizza—with Wonjin making sure to pick off all the tomatoes, of course.

“I’ve missed this view,” Jungmo said breathlessly. “We’ve shared a lot of moments here.”

“Like the times I’ve threatened to push you off?”

“Oh, shut up, Earthling. I’m talking about the nice memories. Remember when we watched the sunrise together?”

“You mean when you knocked on my window at 4:30AM and dragged me out to my roof in the cold?”

“It was worth it, wasn’t it?”

Wonjin remembered that morning vividly, each detail coming together like splashes of watercolor in a sketchbook. 

Lavender clouds popping against streaks of gold. An orange circle emerging from violet hills. Two bluebirds chirping, hidden behind mint leaves and peach blossoms. 

The plush blanket wrapped around both of them. The scent of Jungmo’s earthy cologne. The way his head fit perfectly on Jungmo’s shoulder. The moment Jungmo turned towards him and pressed his forehead against his.

Another infamous, almost-kiss between the two of them. 

_It was totally worth it._

“Absolutely not,” Wonjin said deadpanned, hoping Jungmo didn’t call his bluff. “Wake me up that early again, and I’ll slam the window pane on your fingers.”

Jungmo rolled his eyes at him, pretending to be annoyed. “Well, I, for one, had a great time. Anyway, tomato me.”

Wonjin peeled a chunk of tomato off of the melted cheese on his pizza. He held it between his fingers, holding it towards an eager Jungmo’s mouth. Then, just as he had been doing for years, he gingerly placed the cherry tomato between Jungmo’s lips. He carefully brushed his fingertips against the corner of Jungmo’s mouth, wiping away any residue. 

Any other night, Wonjin would have ignored his heartbeat picking up pace and repressed any sudden urges. Tonight, he didn’t even bother, and he was willing to let curiosity get the best of him for once. 

“You okay?” asked Jungmo while chewing.

Wonjin pulled his fingers away. “Just wondering.” 

_Wondering why I’m aching to press your lips against mine._

Once Wonjin finished eating, he wiped his hands on the greased-up paper napkins, then rested his head on Jungmo’s lap. That was another habit he developed over the years; Jungmo’s lap always felt comfortable. Plus, he secretly enjoyed Jungmo tousling his hair (though he’d never admit it out loud).

“I bet university’s been fun,” Wonjin said.

“Yeah, way more fun now that I’m away from you,” teased Jungmo.

“I could say the same for you then!” Wonjin fired back. “So, how is it?”

“Way better than high school!” Jungmo answered. “The professors are so respectable and passionate; even in my morning classes, I find myself engaged. But it’s not just the professors, either. My classmates and all the other people I’ve collaborated with are pretty cool.”

“I bet they’re all flocking around you,” Wonjin said.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, everyone probably wants to be your friend or hang out with you.”

“You could say that.”

“Everyone’s probably _desperate_ to date you, too,” Wonjin continued. “And knowing how flirty you are, you’d give into it.”

“What?”

“You’ve probably been on a lot of dates since leaving, haven’t you? Maybe even a few flings?”

“Wonjin,” Jungmo said firmly.

Wonjin froze. In their years of friendship and living next door, Jungmo mostly used his pet name “Earthling” around him. Jungmo only called him by his first name during tense moments of sincerity and seriousness. 

He glanced down at Wonjin. “I’m not dating anyone. I haven’t even been on a single date since starting university.”

Wonjin sat up and widened his eyes at Jungmo’s blunt response. “What?”

“You sound disappointed that I haven’t hooked up with anyone,” Jungmo chuckled.

“No, no, it’s not that,” Wonjin said quickly. “It’s just you’re so handsome and charismatic; you could have everyone in your clutches. You probably have everyone falling at your feet. I mean, who _wouldn’t_ be infatuated with your charming visuals and likable personality.”

Jungmo gave Wonjin a concerned look, bemused by his ramble. “Are you okay? You’re never this nice.”

Wonjin shrugged. “I’m just surprised you’re still single, that’s all.” He was relieved that it was already dark out, so Jungmo wouldn’t be able to notice the rosy blush on his cheeks.

“Well, I haven’t really found anyone.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There’s nobody else at university to throw paper airplanes at.”

_Resist, resist, resist,_ Wonjin thought to himself.

_I can’t._

He reached his hand out to touch Jungmo’s lips again when he felt a cold splash of water on his wrist.

The two looked up, only now noticing the gray clumps of clouds and the sprinkle of raindrops coming down on them. 

“Oh shoot, I should get going before we get rained on!” Jungmo scrambled to clean up their food and gather his belongings. For some reason, watching him head home so hastily made Wonjin’s heart sink a little bit.

Not wanting the night to end so abruptly, Wonjin piped up. “Jungmo?” 

“Yes, Earthling?” 

“Do you have somewhere to be tomorrow?” he murmured. 

Jungmo shook his head. “Not until the afternoon. Why do you ask?”

Minutes later, the two were laying side-by-side in Wonjin’s bed. Wonjin zoned out as he stared at his ceiling while Jungmo delicately ran his fingers through his soft hair.

“This…” Wonjin’s voice trailed off. 

_This is what I’ve been waiting for._

“Okay, something is definitely wrong with you!” Jungmo teased as he turned to face him. “First, you complimented me tonight, and now you’re quiet!”

“What, am I not allowed to be nice and quiet?” Wonjin asked.

Jungmo squinted his eyes at him. “Did you get abducted by aliens?”

“You’re the only alien freak I know,” Wonjin said playfully.

“Good,” Jungmo said. “But seriously, are you okay?”

“Something about tonight just feels off, that’s all,” said Wonjin. “Like, it was a fun night, but it sucks knowing we can’t do this again for a while.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“I just wish you could stay longer.”

“Me too,” Jungmo sighed wistfully. “I don’t think I’ve ever said this, but I’m really glad I threw that paper airplane in your window.”

“I’m not,” Wonjin sang. 

“Whatever!”

“You hit me in the eye not once, but _twice!”_

“Yeah, but look how much good it did! Now we’re best friends—”

“Debatable.”

“—and you’re in love with me!”

Wonjin smacked Jungmo in the head with his pillow.’“Me, in love with _you?_ Never in a million years!”

Without warning, Jungmo swiftly rolled on top of Wonjin, pinning him down against the mattress. 

“You really think you can resist me that easily?” he teased. He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue and winked at Wonjin. Meanwhile, Wonjin could feel his cheeks flush red as Jungmo brought his face closer to his. 

_Is he going for a real kiss this time?_ Wonjin was almost expecting it, and he couldn’t help but think about what it would feel like to kiss Jungmo. Once again, curiosity was getting the best of him.

However, Jungmo immediately snapped out of it. He got off of Wonjin, cleared his throat, and settled back down next to him. “Sorry, I was just teasing. I didn’t mean to take it that far.”

“Daring tonight, aren’t we?” Wonjin said. He found himself wondering again. 

One more almost-kiss for the books.

“We should probably turn off the lights now,” Jungmo said awkwardly. “It’s late after all, and I have to be back at my dorm by mid-afternoon.”

Wonjin pouted. “You aren’t staying for the rest of the weekend?”

“I wish I could, but university’s tough!”

“I get it. I’m just tired of waiting for you to come back. 

“I know, Wonjin,” Jungmo sighed. “I am too.” That was the last thing he said before flicking off the lights and dozing off. 

While Jungmo was already in a deep slumber, Wonjin found himself restless. He couldn’t stop replaying each act of affinity that had occurred over the past three years.

Jungmo’s words continued to ring in his ears:

_“You really think you can resist me that easily?”_

_Fellas, is it normal to almost kiss your best friend not once, not twice, but multiple times? And is it also normal to constantly fixate on every single occasion?_

Wonjin continued to stir in bed, still unable to lull himself to sleep due to the whirlwind of memories. His movements must have woken up Jungmo because he drapes his arm around Wonjin and holds him tight.

“Wonjin,” he murmured under his breath. 

“Jungmo?”

“Don’t go,” Jungmo muttered sleepily, nustling his head into Wonjin’s neck. “I’ve missed you.”

Any other night, Wonjin would have violently elbowed Jungmo and sent him tumbling off his bed.

But tonight was the first time in weeks Jungmo had held him so close. Wonjin had spent nights waiting for him, wishing he didn’t have to leave so soon. Tomorrow, Jungmo would be heading back to school, and Wonjin refused to let him fly out of his reach until the last possible second.

Even though Jungmo’s arms were holding him down, Wonjin felt lightweight—almost as if he could defy gravity just like paper airplanes. Slowly and steadily, his hands moved upward to meet Jungmo’s. With the slightest movement, he placed his hand on top of Jungmo’s open palm and squeezed it tight.

“I missed you, too,” he whispered, softly stroking Jungmo’s thumb. “A lot.”

As the words escaped his lips, the memories that were spinning in his head seconds ago were replaced with a single thought:

_Ah, fuck, I’m in love with him, aren’t I?_

Wonjin’s crush on Jungmo was undeniably cliché, almost expected. 

Next-door neighbors.

With parallel bedroom windows.

Who spent each day exchanging scribbled notes on paper planes with the flick of a wrist. 

Somehow, those paper planes—each one printed with Jungmo’s fluttering words—managed to take wing straight into Wonjin’s heart.

As much as Wonjin wanted to deny it, he couldn’t resist falling for Koo Jungmo.

—

_Step Four: Fold the plane in half toward you._

Wonjin is nineteen now. It’s been a year since that sleepover and since he realized his true feelings for Jungmo.

Prepping himself, he rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath. Keeping his hands as steady as possible, he picks up the paper airplane, pinching the bottom fold with his fingertips. 

_Here goes nothing._

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

He flicks his wrist—a delicate motion that sends his confession through the clouds and into Jungmo’s room. The plan goes smoothly, and the plane easily enters Jungmo’s window and lands perfectly on this desk.

Now came the hard part: waiting for Jungmo once again.

A half-hour later, the lights flicker on in the parallel bedroom. Just like the room, Wonjin immediately lights up, gazing out the window and spellbound by Jungmo’s presence. Even watching him takes his breath away; he won’t be able to breathe again until Jungmo reciprocates his feelings.

His crush approaches his desk, eyes fixated on the paper plane. He looks out his window, and his eyes crinkle with bliss as soon as he sees Wonjin. The two waves at each other, and Wonjin energetically motions for Jungmo to unfold the paper plane.

Jungmo nods at him, opens up the plane, and begins reading Wonjin’s confession. 

His expression is ambiguous.

It worries Wonjin. Is Jungmo pleasantly surprised, or is he contemplating the least harsh way to reject Wonjin?

He decides not to obsess about it too much. Besides, Jungmo was already sitting down at his desk, writing out his response. Within minutes, the plane is back in the air and crashing onto Wonjin’s desk. 

Wonjin carefully unfolds the plane, and his chest tightens when he reads Jungmo’s brief, seemingly thoughtless, response. 

He cringes at the message, crumpling up the paper plane and tossing it outside.

Without even looking at Jungmo, Wonjin releases the notch on his bedroom window, letting the glass pane vigorously slam into the window sill and lock itself in place.

—

_Step Five: Fold the wings down, matching the top edges with the bottom edge of the body so it’s symmetrical._

Jungmo was sixteen when the first paper airplane flew straight into Wonjin’s eyeball.

He wasn’t exactly sure what compelled him to throw a paper airplane straight into his new neighbor’s bedroom. Whatever it was, it was enough to convince him to make the first move. 

Of course, he could’ve just gone down, gone over to his house, and introduced himself formally. However, formal introductions were too rigid, too structured. Formal introductions meant taking things slow, one step at a time.

Jungmo wanted an immediate reaction, though, frankly, he also wasn’t sure why he wanted one in the first place. 

To be fair, his family had just moved back to Korea after spending most of his life in New Zealand. His sudden desire could have possibly stemmed from a lot of things. If Jungmo was taking a multiple-choice test on his life, it would probably go something like this:

_Why did you throw a paper airplane into your new next-door neighbor’s window like a complete weirdo, and why were you secretly hoping for him to respond?_   
_A) You were bored_   
_B) You were curious_   
_C) You’re a psychopath_   
_D) You were drawn to him_

Four years later, he still isn’t sure what exactly compelled him to fold a paper airplane and throw it into Wonjin’s room.

There is one thing he _is_ sure of: despite his secret wish, he wasn’t expecting Wonjin to actually respond and throw a plane back. 

But once he did, Jungmo didn’t want him to stop.

Jungmo never thought he’d be the type to catch feelings so quickly, but Wonjin’s charm, humor, and looks fit his ideal type perfectly. Of course, he couldn’t help falling in love. 

Whenever Jungmo accidentally brushed his hand against Wonjin’s or leaned in to tease him, his brain would be clouded with whimsical wishes of romance.

Those thoughts consumed Jungmo’s mind for nights, and he couldn’t seem to shake them out. The first few nights, he tried playing denial, insisting these thoughts were just random murmurs or hiccups in his mind due to him being emotionally bored. He didn’t want to cave in to these thoughts because the second he delved further and further, he’d have to confront the confusing whirlwind of emotions in his mind. But as the days continued to pass and the nights continued to last longer and longer, Jungmo eventually had to come to terms with the fact that he was _feeling_ things. 

Feeling things for none other Ham Wonjin. 

Within weeks of tossing the first paper airplane, Jungmo had already developed a crush on Wonjin. 

However, he chose to keep to himself. Wonjin was the sarcastic, cynical type, after all. Trying to decipher Wonjin’s feelings was yet another multiple-choice question that Jungmo couldn’t answer. 

Besides, he was content with their current relationship. They were best friends and next-door neighbors and could see each other at any given moment. All they had to do was send each other a paper plane, and minutes later, they’d be together again.

For years, that was enough.

However, his crush only intensified when he had to leave for university. The saying was true: _the thing you want most is the thing you can’t have._

It killed him inside, knowing he couldn’t be with Wonjin every day, just like how things were before he left. 

Wonjin was right about people being enchanted by him. Everywhere Jungmo went, his classmates stared at him in awe, whispering compliments and words of affection to one another. In Wonjin’s words, _he could have everyone in his clutches._

But that wasn’t enough. 

Nobody was enough. Paper airplanes weren’t enough. Being solely friends and neighbors with Wonjin wasn’t enough.

_He needed him to be his._

That need and desire to end up with Wonjin continued to flourish, taunting Jungmo with memories and questions of _what-if?_

Jungmo was convinced he was coming down with something and getting sick. More specifically, lovesick. Unfortunately for him, the symptoms of his lovesickness only grew worse and worse the more time he spent away from Wonjin. 

It wasn’t enough to just see Wonjin every few weeks. Jungmo wanted more, and what Jungmo wants, Jungmo gets. Why else would he spend years tormenting Wonjin with countless paper planes?

Jungmo thinks he’s finally getting what he wanted when he arrives home that day. Sitting perfectly and pristine on his wooden desk is a new paper airplane from Wonjin. Even though he hasn’t even opened it yet, he can already feel his body float.

Wonjin is already waving at him through his bedroom window. He’s giddier than usual, Jungmo notices—chirping and bouncing like a baby bird eager for its tasty reward. Jungmo waves back, charmed by his neighbor’s adorable actions. 

He drops his bags by his bed and practically dives towards his desk, unfolding the paper airplane.

_THIS IS SUPER CHEESY—I KNOW IT IS—BUT THIS SEEMED LIKE THE PERFECT WAY TO TELL YOU. SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO FINALLY SAY IT._

_I LOVE YOU._

Jungmo feels himself floating higher, and he’s on cloud nine. He finally got what he wanted.

He did, right? 

Deep down, Jungmo knows it’s silly of him to be so doubtful of Wonjin’s sudden confession, but he can’t help it. Besides, all those times he leaned in, craving for a first kiss, not once did Wonjin ever close the gap. Though, to be fair, it’s not like he ever made any further moves either.

That’s because a part of him can’t bear to risk everything and ruin their relationship. Jungmo wants Wonjin—he’s certain he is. His feelings for Wonjin were never in question. Wonjin’s feelings for Jungmo, on the other hand?

The problem is, Wonjin is the sarcastic, cynical type. Even though he’s known Wonjin for four years already, Jungmo is still stuck on another multiple-choice question:

_Does Wonjin love me back?_   
_A) Yes_   
_B) No_   
_C) Maybe?_

If Wonjin doesn’t want him back, Jungmo could lose him forever.

_The thing you want most is the thing you can’t have._

So, he plays it safe, cautiously writing a three-word question:

_AS A FRIEND?_

When he looks up again, Wonjin is still watching and waiting for him. He’s less animated than he was seconds ago. Now, he seems nervous, taking deep breaths and puffing his cheeks out to calm himself down. 

Jungmo takes a deep breath as well and sends the paper airplane back to Wonjin’s end. 

Within seconds, it’s in Wonjin’s hands, ready to be opened.

Jungmo watches him anxiously, hoping he’ll get a heartwarming, stirring response. While waiting, he fantasizes about what Wonjin’s response could potentially say.

Maybe, Wonjin would be nice for once and say something sweet like, _I LOVE YOU MORE THAN A FRIEND, AND I WANT YOU TO BE MORE THAN A FRIEND. THAT IS IF YOU’LL GIVE ME THE CHANCE._

Of course, this was _Wonjin,_ they were talking about, so his message would be blunt and scathing. Something along the lines of, _NO, MORE THAN A FRIEND, ALIEN FREAK. ARE YOU STUPID? CAN YOU NOT READ?_

Either way, those are the kinds of replies Jungmo is hoping will soar back to him. 

Instead, he gets a frustrated Wonjin, a crumpled-up paper plane, and a locked window.

“Shit!” Jungmo curses to himself as he slams his palms against his desk. He hangs his head in dejection, tightly clenching chunks of his dark hair between his fingers.

Okay, so Wonjin locking his window isn’t exactly what Jungmo had in mind. Still, he refuses to let the glass obstacle separate him and Wonjin. Thinking quickly, Jungmo grabs a stack of papers from his drawer and throws them on his desk. Carefully, he grabs the first clean, white sheet on top, then writes down his _real_ response to Wonjin’s confession. Then, just as he had for the past three years, he follows the same, familiar steps: 

_Step One: Fold the paper in half vertically._

_Step Two: Unfold the paper and fold each of the top corners into the center line until they meet._

_Step Three: Fold the top edges into the center line, making sure the ends touch as close as possible._

_Step Four: Fold the plane in half toward you._

_Step Five: Fold the wings down, matching the top edges with the bottom edge of the body so it’s symmetrical._

_Step Six: Add tape to join the two sides together, completing the paper airplane._

Once completed, Jungmo sends it on course and towards Wonjin’s windowpane. For a moment, the paper airplane seems to be headed to its target destination—that is until a gust of autumn chill rushes through. The striking current causes the plane to tumble. It spins alongside the brittle, dry leaves that had detached themselves from thin branches. Ultimately, the wind forces the plane to nose-dive straight into Jungmo’s backyard. 

Jungmo leans back in his chair, once again finding the urge to yank out his hair. Once he regains focus, he eyes the stack of papers on his desk again, mentally rifling through the sheets to estimate how many more planes he can craft.

“About forty,” he mutters to himself. “Forty chances to get his attention. Forty chances to win him back.”

So, Jungmo spends the rest of the afternoon folding forty planes, holding his breath and wishing at least _one_ of them cleanly lands on Wonjin’s window sill. 

Unfortunately, the wind has other plans. Every plane gets caught up in its mesmerizing movements, dancing with the scarlet leaves before freefalling into the grass. 

The stack of papers is dwindling exponentially, and Jungmo knows he’s running out of chances. Despite this, he’s still determined—yet _another_ symptom of his everlasting lovesickness. Even when he’s reached the last sheet of paper, he still finds himself hell-bent on his task. Besides, after thirty-something attempts, there’s no way he’d miss this time, right?

With a pitiful throw, he releases his grip on the bottom fold and watches the final plane stay in the silver sky for a few seconds before it crashes. 

He listlessly looks down at the piles of paper planes outside. “Mom!” he calls out from his room, “Do we have any printer paper left?”

“I think your dad just used the last few sheets for his report!” his mom shouts back.

An exhausted Jungmo sinks back down into his chair and slams his head against his wooden desk. 

_Maybe if I hit my head hard enough, I’ll give myself a concussion. Then, I'll black out and be transported to an alternate alien universe where I_ didn’t _accidentally ruin things with my crush!_

_Alien._

The word echoes in his mind a few more times, and that’s when Jungmo realizes something. A specific memory from four years ago comes flooding back, and it energizes him. He vigorously pushes himself away from his desk, leaps out of his chair, and onto the floor next to the bed. He _knows_ he left it around here somewhere.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he says to himself, ruffling through the mess of old keepsakes under his bed. “I kept it in one of these boxes!” 

After a few minutes of rummaging through tattered shoeboxes and miscellaneous storage containers, Jungmo finally finds what he’s been searching for.

He retreats to his desk, uncaps his marker, and begins executing his second plan. Once finished, he grabs his coat and carefully places his message inside the inner pocket. He sprints down the stairs and into the backyard, then hops the fence between his and Wonjin’s backyards.

If he can’t fly to Wonjin, he’ll run to him instead. After all, what Jungmo wants, Jungmo gets. 

—

_Step Six: Add tape to join the two sides together, completing the paper airplane._

“What are you doing here?” Wonjin says viciously, scowling at Jungmo’s presence. 

“You closed your window,” Jungmo explains as he sat by the window sill. “You only close your window when you’re too busy to talk or not in the mood.”

“Exactly,” Wonjin says coldly. “So get out.”

“Wonjin—”

“I’m not in the mood, okay!”

“Is that any way to talk to your crush?” Jungmo blurts out.

Wonjin freezes, eyes locked with Jungmo’s. He can feel his face turn red again, so he immediately darts his eyes back down to his laptop. “You should go,” he says callously. 

Jungmo sighs, praying his next three words will convince Wonjin to talk to him. “I’ll order pizza?”

“I already ate.”

Jungmo won’t take no for an answer, so he slams Wonjin’s laptop shut and grabs it off his desk.

“Hey, I have an essay due by the end of the week!” Wonjin whines. 

Jungmo continues holding the laptop out of his reach. “Will you come out here and talk to me?”

“No.”

“Then you can say goodbye to your essay!” 

“Gosh, you’re despicable!”

Jungmo’s expression softens, and he carefully slides the laptop back on Wonjin’s desk. “Can you just come out?” he pleads, doing his best to pout like a kitten. 

As much as he wants to, Wonjin knows he can’t resist, so he takes a deep breath and climbs out onto the roof. 

Jungmo pats the spot next to him, motioning for Wonjin to sit next to him. “Come here; there’s something I want to show you.”

Once seated, Wonjin looks down at the view below, and he’s taken aback by Jungmo’s surprise. Scattered all over their backyards are dozens of paper airplanes, all tattooed with Jungmo’s handwriting.

“I spent the afternoon folding all these paper planes, desperately hoping you’d look up and find them flying towards you,” Jungmo explains exasperatedly. “That, or they’d find your way to you.”

“Wow,” Wonjin says breathlessly. “Your aim sucks!”

“Hey, it’s windy tonight, okay?” Jungmo says defensively. “Not to mention it’s forecasted to rain tonight.”

“That’s a huge waste of paper, you know.”

“I _promise_ I’ll clean it up and properly recycle everything,” Jungmo says. There’s a hint of innocence in his eyes, and Wonjin can’t help but chuckle at his remorse.

He’s supposed to be mad at Jungmo, but old habits are hard to break, so Wonjin rests his head on his lap anyway. Jungmo begins twirling strands of his hair. 

“You idiot, why couldn’t you just text or call me!” Wonjin says, swatting Jungmo’s chest with the back of his hand.

Jungmo rolls his eyes. “You really want me to respond to your confession over the phone?”

“Fair enough.”

“Now where was I? Right, I was folding all these paper airplanes, trying to send you my response, but of course _you_ had to pick a windy day to confess!”

“Why are you putting this on me!” Wonjin says defensively.

“You’re the one in love with me, aren’t you?” Jungmo argues back.

“Yeah, so what if I am?” Wonjin says. “But that’s gonna change real soon if you don’t hurry up and get to the point!”

Jungmo pauses, and he remembers the multiple-choice question from earlier:

_Does Wonjin love me back?_   
_A) Yes_   
_B) No_   
_C) Maybe?_

He mentally bubbles in answer “A.” He kicks himself for wasting so much time on this question after realizing the answer was right in front of him this whole time.

Rather than continue to ramble and further drag things on, Jungmo reaches inside his coat. He grabs something from the inner pocket and hands Wonjin the first paper plane that flew straight into his eyeball four years ago.

“You still have this?” Wonjin murmurs curiously, holding the paper plane in his open hands.

Jungmo smiles lovingly, reminiscing on the day they first met. “I never threw it back, remember?”

Wonjin carefully unfolds the plane, revealing the first fluttering messages that took wing straight into his heart. 

“Turn it around,” Jungmo instructs. His expression is calm, but Wonjin feels his legs shaking underneath him.

Wonjin’s heart continues to flutter as he reads the words Jungmo wrote for him. Each of his inked letters has tumbled its way onto the precious paper like the autumn wind.

_TO MY FAVORITE EARTHLING,_

_THE FIRST TIME WE MET, YOU ASKED WHY I KEPT SENDING YOU PAPER AIRPLANES. I NEVER ANSWERED. I DIDN’T HAVE AN ANSWER. I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO ANSWER THE FOLLOWING MULTIPLE-CHOICE QUESTION:_

_Why did you throw a paper airplane into your new next-door neighbor’s window like a complete weirdo, and why were you secretly hoping for him to respond?_   
_A) You were bored_   
_B) You were curious_   
_C) You’re a psychopath_   
_D) You were drawn to him_

_AT THE TIME, I PROBABLY WOULD’VE ANSWERED “A” OR “B.” YOU DEFINITELY WOULD’VE CHOSEN “C.” DON’T EVEN DENY IT, I KNOW YOU WOULD HAVE._

_THIS MULTIPLE-CHOICE QUESTION HAS ALWAYS BEEN A GUESSING GAME FOR ME. FOUR YEARS LATER, I STILL FOUND MYSELF BLINDLY PICKING BETWEEN THE OPTIONS IN AN EFFORT TO EXPLAIN MYSELF._

_BUT WHEN I SAW YOUR PAPER PLANE ON MY DESK THIS AFTERNOON, THE ANSWER FINALLY CAME TO ME._

_THE ANSWER IS “D.” IT’S ALWAYS BEEN “D.”_

_I’VE ALWAYS BEEN DRAWN TO YOU, WONJIN._

_THE MORE PAPER AIRPLANES WE SENT TO EACH OTHER, THE MORE I WANTED._

_I WANTED YOU TO RESPOND. I WANTED TO TALK TO YOU. I WANTED EXCUSES TO SEE YOU._

_I WANTED TO SAY “AH, FUCK IT!” AND JUMP ACROSS THE SPACE BETWEEN OUR WINDOWS SO I COULD BE WITH YOU._

_I WANTED YOU TO DO WHAT I DIDN’T HAVE THE GUTS TO DO AND IMPULSIVELY CLOSE THE GAP BETWEEN US ONE NIGHT._

_I WANTED YOU._

_NOT JUST AS A FRIEND, WONJIN._

_I WANT YOU AS A PARTNER. A BOYFRIEND. A SIGNIFICANT OTHER._

_A LOVER._

_A LOVER WHO I KNOW WILL ALWAYS THROW A PAPER AIRPLANE BACK, NO MATTER HOW ANNOYED THEY ARE WITH ME._

_SO, WONJIN, ARE YOU STILL TIRED OF WAITING FOR ME? BECAUSE LUCKY FOR YOU,_

_THE WAIT IS FINALLY OVER._

When Wonjin finishes reading the note, he’s left speechless for once, completely captivated by the confession.

“I love you, Wonjin,” Jungmo says. “And I’m sorry for sending that stupid paper airplane today. Truthfully, I do love you more than a friend. But what about you? Do you still hate me almost as much as you hate tomatoes?”

“Eh, kind of,” Wonjin answers wryly as he sits up. “But the thing is, I don’t hate you because I dislike you. Actually, it’s the complete opposite. 

I hate you because you always had this way of distracting me and grabbing my attention, even though I tried ignoring you at first. Maybe it was your determination. Maybe it was your charm. Or maybe you’re just really, _really_ freaking attractive. 

Whatever it is, you managed to wrap me around your little finger. 

I hate you because you’re such a flirt, and you _know_ it. Like, all those times you’d lean in and almost kiss me, or that one night when you pinned me down! Do you know how many times you’d make me blush or leave me flustered? It’s insane how much control you have over me, and I absolutely can’t _stand_ you for that!

Not to mention that stupid remark you made all those years ago came true. You were right; I still hate tomatoes. I always will. But you? 

I can’t resist you any longer. The more I force myself to back away, the more I find myself craving you.

I hate you because _goddammit Koo Jungmo;_ you made me fall in love with you!”

The rain they were expecting all day arrives, interrupting Wonjin’s romantic tangent. Cool droplets of water continue to drip down their faces and soak their clothes. 

“Oh, come on!” Wonjin says, punching his wet fists at the clouds. 

“Talk about bad timing,” Jungmo laughs cynically. “Anyway, we should probably head inside.” He tries to get up, but Wonjin grabs onto the sleeve of his jacket and yanks him back down.

“Hold on, I’m not done with my confession yet!” Wonjin whines. Jungmo sticks his tongue out at him, but he sits back down anyway and ruffles his damp hair.

“And you know what? I’d be willing to get stabbed in the eye with a thousand paper airplanes if it meant falling for you again and again,” Wonjin declares. 

Crystal raindrops are clustered in Jungmo’s hair, each one glistening under the moonlight like jewels on a crown. He laughs again, pushing his slick hair back and sticking his tongue out slightly to catch the rain. 

Watching him, Wonjin can’t help but blurt out, “I love you, Koo Jungmo. A lot.”

Jungmo coyly raises an eyebrow at him. “Should I be relieved?” he asks, relaying the question from their first night on the roof.

“I don’t know, should you?”

“I think I should.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because I won’t have to worry about you pushing me off the roof after I do this.”

Jungmo leans close, only this time, he allows himself to close the gap, leaving no empty space between him and Wonjin.

It’s a perfect first kiss, with each soft movement coming naturally to them: 

Jungmo cusping Wonjin’s cheek. Wonjin latching onto Jungmo’s shoulders. Both of them running their fingers through each other’s wet hair. Breathing in sync and only separating for quick gasps of oxygen. 

The two of them soaked in the enticing euphoria of their first real kiss. After years of almost-kisses, neither of them wanted to reopen the gap between them.

Not that there was anything wrong with almost-kisses; they were fine. Almost-kisses were innocent and platonic actions that kept each other guessing—a constant back-and-forth of _will we, or will we not?_

But in comparison to real kisses, almost-kisses were _nothing._ Real kisses, on the other hand? 

Real kisses left them wanting more, unable to wait for the next time their lips would meet. 

Real kisses were like paper planes floating in the faded, autumn sky.

Real kisses were _irresistible._

Even when they finally separate, neither of them is satisfied. “Do it again,” Wonjin says, panting between laughs, and Jungmo leans in and kisses him once more. 

Jungmo and Wonjin stay on the rooftop for the rest of the night despite the rainy weather. They don’t even notice the chilling cold sticking to their wet clothes; their kisses and touches are enough to keep each other warm.

A few hours later, a golden flash appears in the distance, replacing the black sky with saturated swirls of color. 

“It’s already morning?” says Wonjin, squinting his eyes at the sunrise. “I didn’t even realize I was out here with you all night!”

“Was it worth it?” asks Jungmo. 

“It totally was,” Wonjin says drowsily. He wraps his arms around Jungmo’s neck, yawning as he buries his face into his chest. “Ah, I should probably go to sleep, though.”

“One last kiss for good measure?”

Of course, Wonjin can’t resist, and he pulls Jungmo toward him and plants a light peck on the corner of his lips. 

Even though the lack of sleep is starting to kick in, Jungmo doesn’t leave just yet. Instead, he continues cradling Wonjin, whose eyelids are already beginning to droop. He hugs him even tighter, resting his chin on top of Wonjin’s head as the younger begins to fall asleep.

Finally, Jungmo got what he wanted. So did Wonjin. 

Their hearts continue to fly towards the sunrise like a pair of paper wings taking flight.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus but i'm back (maybe)! I had so much fun writing this and it felt good to come back w some fluffy moguham so i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed bringing it to life <3
> 
> I’ve been suuuuper busy w school and personal things in my life so i’m not sure when i’ll have the opportunity to write again. But my next project will (likely) be another installment in The Best Man series. For those who found my works through that series, please anticipate it within the next month or two!
> 
> LASTLY HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAN I LOVE YOU SM I HOPE YOU ENJOYED


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